Sun on his Back Wanderer

He sits on the ground
and flips through a book
by the light of the setting sun.
And he lies on the side
of the rock that’ll face
the warmth of the rising one.
He’s on his feet by day
and side by night.
Guided by the stars and
what he once called a pillar of light.

He’s never in one place twice
and he’s never stopped to think
of the dangers of trusting;
He moves so quickly through the country
His clothing translucent, never wet for long
His dagger ignored in its rusting.
and at night when the dark
settles, he by a spark
lights a lamp, and he raises his camp.

He sits on the ground
and reads through a page
by the light of the setting sun.
And his eyes, deep and wide
show he’s ready to face
Life—The warmth of the rising one
on his back.